[OOC: hypertextual aside: when they arrived at the door, there was a kiss. Darn mistletoe.]
...alright with it.
[He does hug his own elbows, though, because he feels the cold, and it always takes him a little while to counter it. There's a little ripple when he steps over the threshhold, a blaze of power diffused only by how widely it's cast, because his power is unbounded here, so he could practice with Jean and Elsa. Without the admiral's dam, he can feel repetitions in the snowflakes, a thousand tiny patterns beginning to come under his sway. He concentrates on directing the overflow as much as he can into a small pocket of heat around himself. Heat is only chaos on the molecular level; it comes easily but not naturally, not automatically, and the fineness of scale, the staggering number of operations to be sifted through and simultaneously brute-forced at volume. For a little while, Arthas is free to play, while Dillon struggles and concentrates, eyes nearly glazed, until his breath stops steaming and little puddles spread around his sneakers.]
spam
...alright with it.
[He does hug his own elbows, though, because he feels the cold, and it always takes him a little while to counter it. There's a little ripple when he steps over the threshhold, a blaze of power diffused only by how widely it's cast, because his power is unbounded here, so he could practice with Jean and Elsa. Without the admiral's dam, he can feel repetitions in the snowflakes, a thousand tiny patterns beginning to come under his sway. He concentrates on directing the overflow as much as he can into a small pocket of heat around himself. Heat is only chaos on the molecular level; it comes easily but not naturally, not automatically, and the fineness of scale, the staggering number of operations to be sifted through and simultaneously brute-forced at volume. For a little while, Arthas is free to play, while Dillon struggles and concentrates, eyes nearly glazed, until his breath stops steaming and little puddles spread around his sneakers.]